Love

There is a love so gentle, so precious, that the arms that hold us are but the same essence and texture of a rose petal. The binds, the ones that are bold, caress and cajole your heart towards a measured meeting of affection. I say not the words that you need to hear as, instead, my warmth will meet all needs. All requirements. All of the tender kisses.

Love.

You see, of course, that many of us either have a dream filled view of love, or are ever so slightly tainted by the experiences that we have been taught. The happy moments of mesmerising bliss, the stroking of our emotions by another while, at the same time, returning affection whilst common sense escaped.

Love is cruel, poetically twisted, by more than one person within this world. When it’s good, when it’s appreciated and reciprocated, it can be so very uplifting. That bonding, the energy, the smiles and holding hands filling our lives with that needed security. We’re stained by the other person, their hands and kisses changing our very skin as well as thoughts.

Then, from nowhere, love turns into something else. Something almost evil. That twisted thing where your mind rips you apart and you go through the ever so obvious emotions. Love is a gift that you give to another person and, if you take the very nature of love, you would be happy for another when they wished to leave. Yeah, I know, madness. Society still has, possibly, the hardest lesson of all to learn. Love is love. It’s supposed to be pure, giving, endless and not even remotely selfish.

We can take something so beautiful, so amazing, to then turn it into words of hurt and pain. Human beings are selfish. We know this. We need, we want, we never wish to be left but that is the way of the world. If you love someone, truly, deep down, with every single part of your heart, soul and mind, you would not ask questions, scream, pull the heavens down from the very sky above as you, instead, would simply accept. Cry, find your tears, but that’s for your private time and moments.

Some of us can be with one person for all our lives, but the likelihood of that happening in our throwaway society… is slim. We grow as people, as individuals and couples. We, eventually, find new interests and drift. It is natural. Hold. Support. Be all you can be and then, when the decision is made, respect that decision. We are all individuals and if we are mentally stable, we can endure the passing of a love. Most of us have done this. Most have lived through the pain.

However, instead of being calm, we spit venom, demeaning the other person to a state of near hatred. How dare someone love a person and then leave. How dare the truth suddenly change into a lie. We twist, manipulate, shout and scream and inform others. This is not love. It will never, ever, be love.

Love is not hatred due to loss. Love is not sending message after message without realising the mental damage they inflict (Which I myself have done… but will never do again). Love is not supposed to be selfish. Love is… not love unless you make it just that. Unfortunately, many of us have been tortured by love’s rose filled idiocy of magical dreams and fairy tales. The movies sell you a dream, as we never truly learn how to live with the lie.

Love is holding the hand of someone special. Love is being free. Love is embracing the world for what it is. Love is understanding another person’s point of view. Love is holding your pillow, as you scream into the night, while also wishing the best for another. Love is understanding that those messages, above, are simply pain and not to be taken as anything else. Love is crying your eyes out and not being mean. Love is… love.

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Written 03.06.2020